


Homesick

by DatoPotato



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23646733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatoPotato/pseuds/DatoPotato
Summary: Another short fic! This one's about Damian being homesick and stuff about what he does to make himself feel better. Just a cute short.
Kudos: 48





	Homesick

Damian shook his head, the ground beneath him spinning as he attempted to regain his balance.

“Robin!” he heard Dick shout, concerned for the boy’s wellbeing. 

“I,” Damian started, taking a shaky breath, “I’m fine.”

He was quickly lifted up and moved. When he was finally able to see, he saw his Father’s retreating form. He knew he messed up, the guy who landed a hit on Damian was nothing but a common thief, so how in the hell did he hit Damian Wayne, the son of the Batman, Grandson of the Demon’s head? 

Damian sat, defeated against the cool concrete and waited for his Father and brother to finish. On the way back to the cave, no one spoke.

Once they entered the cave and took their masks off, Bruce knelt down in front of Damian.

“Son, what happened out there?” Bruce asked him, looking into his eyes. 

Damian shifted his gaze away, “Nothing. I was simply distracted for a moment.”

Bruce sighed, “You seem to be distracted quite often these days.”

That made Damian unnecessarily angry. He shoved his Father backwards, “I’ve been perfectly fine. As I said, I was simply distracted for a mere moment, and he happened to get in a lucky hit.”

Bruce steadied himself, but before he could say anything further, Damian turned around and rushed to his room. He couldn’t bear to even attempt to explain what was going on in his head. How could he tell his father that he felt homesick? That he missed the League? Well, perhaps not the League but the small things. The music that was almost always playing in his Grandfather’s study, the meals he would eat, although alone, they were still a comfort to his daily life.

Damian curled up in bed and prayed for sleep, his body could use the rest and his mind needed the distraction. Thankfully, it came easily that night.

The next night, he joined his father in the cave as they were to patrol. Damian stopped in his tracks when he came in and saw Dick standing by the Batcomputer next to his Father.

“What is Richard doing here?” he questioned.

Bruce sighed as he turned around in the chair, “He’s going out on patrol with me tonight.”

Damian froze. 

“He’s going on patrol with you,” Damian narrowed his eyes, “Not us.”

Bruce nodded and Damian scoffed, “You could use some rest, perhaps patrolling every night is finally catching up to you.”

“I am fine,” Damian hissed, grabbing his belt for his uniform.

Dick was quick to snatch it from his hands, “See now, the Dami I know would have seen that coming,” Dick mused as the boy began to fume.

“Richard, I suggest you hand my utility belt back to me,” he threatened lowly.

Dick chuckled, “Baby bat, the state you’re in, I’m not sure you’re in any position to threaten me.”

Damian growled as he turned back to his Father who shook his head. Finally, he decided he wouldn’t get anywhere with either of them so he headed back.

Once he was in his room, he fully intended to go out on patrol anyway, disregarding his Father’s orders, but eventually decided against it. He took the rest of his uniform off and slipped under his covers as Titus bounded into his room, ready for bed.

Damian tossed and turned. He knew he was a bit out of it during patrol, but this was exactly what he didn’t need. As a result of him being forbidden from leaving the house, Damian was forced to deal with his thoughts, something he never really cared for. They always ended up taking him somewhere he didn’t want to return to.

Damian groaned as he sat up. Perhaps the music would help. He reached for his cellphone and switched his bedside lamp on so he could see. He opened up the music app and pressed play. As soon as the music started, he could feel the tension in his shoulder dissipate, his breathing calm. Even with the music, he could tell he wasn’t tired. Or at least, he certainly wasn’t going to be falling asleep anytime soon. His stomach growled, reminding him he had yet to eat a proper meal as he usually has a good meal after patrol.

Sighing, he hopped down from his bed, Titus perking up as he left the room. The Great Dane was quick to follow after Damian as he made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen. He stood in the entry for a minute, just looking around, thinking about what exactly he was doing.

With a heavy sigh, Damian started going through the cupboards, taking vegetables from the fridge, rice and spices from the pantry. He went to grab the chicken before making a face at it and retracting his hand. It was a habit to add the chicken in, so he nearly did, forgetting he had sworn off all meat. He set his phone on the counter, letting the music play as he worked and hummed along with it.

Damian started on the vegetables, washing and prepping them, throwing some carrots and bell pepper pieces to Titus who lay patiently at Damian’s feet. He chuckled at the dog as he would leap to catch each piece before it hit the ground. The rice started to boil over, requiring his attention as he threw one last carrot to Titus. 

Before long, he had a rather large plate of biryani in front of him. He sighed and shook his head, in his haste he hadn’t paid too much attention to the portions and simply tossed in however much he felt like and ended up making at least seven full meals.

“I can’t believe that, did you hear him?” Dick’s loud voice echoed down the hall and into the kitchen, making Damian jump. It was definitely about time they returned, but Damian was not prepared. He attempted to gather the evidence of his cooking in order to hide it, throwing the dishes in the sink and trying to carry the mountain of food to his room, but he was much too slow.

“What’s going on in here?” Bruce asked him from the doorway.

Damian slowly turned around, placing the plate gently back on the counter, “I was hungry.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, sizing up the plate, “Famished, apparently.”

Dick poked his head around Bruce, “Holy food, Damian, that’s like the same size as you,” he laughed.

Damian scowled, “I accidentally made too much,” he told them, shifting his gaze and reaching for his phone.

As Damian shut the music off, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder, “Well, it seems that Alfred forgot to prepare a meal for Dick and I, do you mind sharing?”

Alfred seemed slightly offended as he glared at Bruce but Bruce simply waved him off and Dick chuckled.

“I suppose I could,” Damian said finally. 

Bruce ruffled the boy’s hair, “Thanks, Dami!” Dick said as he began serving himself, handing a plate to Bruce, Alfred and Damian.

Not a single grain of rice was left when they were finished, and they all headed for their rooms. As Damian climbed the stairs, Dick stopped him, “You know, Dami, I used to listen to circus music when I had first moved here,” Dick said with a smile, “Still do, actually. Makes me feel at ease.”

Damian nodded, “I see.”

“No shame in feeling homesick, little D. Just ‘cause this is your home, doesn’t mean you can’t miss your old one,” Dick told him gently, “Even if your old one happened to be filled with assassins.”

Damian chuckled slightly and turned to continue up the stairs, “Thank you, Richard.”

“Anytime, Damian.”


End file.
